I Will Always Return
by High Roller Yunalesca
Summary: [Dedicated to Trollface Mastah.] Steven is taken aback when an old friend comes back with some inner demons of her own. Rated T for some strong language and mentions of domestic abuse.


**A/N: I decided to write this very special one-shot as a way of alleviating some of the stress I've felt in the past. So yeah, this one is for you guys (and especially Toku).**

As usual, today was very pleasant and warm in Beach City. Steven was sitting at the end of the boardwalk with his friends Peedee and Atari, basking in the rays of the afternoon sun and reflecting on memories past. It was pretty depressing, though, since Connie couldn't be with them right now. She was always the kind of girl who'd go on endlessly about how powerful the sun was and how much it affected life on Earth.

Steven was very desperate to see her again, especially after last time. He figured she was probably emotionally exhausted having to live in British Columbia without being able to make new friends or the like. He wondered if she was just as desperate to see him too.

He didn't have to wonder long when he felt a tap on the shoulder. He turned to see the Indian girl in all her brown-skinned, dark-haired glory. Her hair was noticeably shorter since they'd met last and she appeared to be thinner than usual. There was a long, five-inches-wide scar on her right cheek and a huge shiner on her right eye.

"Connie?" Steven asked rather alarmingly. "What are you doing here?"

"Trying to get away from Mother." she answered in a monotone.

"Why? What's wrong?" He then noticed the black eye along with everybody else. "W-What happened to your eye?"

"I... walked into a door."

Peedee and Atari were too speechless to come up with a reply; all they could do was stare in horror.

"Oh dear..." Steven reached out to touch her face, but she flinched away. "What did you mean when you said you were 'trying to get away from Mother?'"

Connie sighed. "Okay, do you really want to know what I meant by that?" she asked quietly. "Fine. It all started right after Dad lost his head in front of us. Mother... well, she was always pretty strict with me but when Dad died, man that's when she changed. She started comparing me to him and wishing that I'd died that day instead."

"Really?" Steven now queried incredulously. "Why would she say such horrible things?"

"I don't know." Her voice was quivering with fear. "I knew she was frank, but this is _ridiculous!_ What did I do to deserve this shit?!" She began to cry.

"Connie..." Atari breathed. "You've done nothing to be battered like this. You really haven't. It was right of you to leave like you did."

"Yeah, it was," Peedee concurred. "I mean, it takes a strong person like you to withstand an abusive relationship but it takes a stronger person to get out of it. Just ask Vidalia."

"He's right." Steven agreed as well. "When Amethyst was still around, she always said to never let anyone make you feel like garbage."

"I know." Connie said while trying to hold back any more tears. "But this is my mother we're talking about! How does anybody- let alone you guys -expect me to stand up to somebody to whom I am their flesh and blood?"

Steven thought about it for a minute. "The least you can do is try to cut her out of your life, Connie," he suggested. "How'd you get here anyway?"

"Well, I had to travel on foot for thirteen days straight while occasionally hitchhiking along the way." she started to explain. "Then when I was sure I had made it to the United States, I forsook walking entirely and just hitchhiked from Washington to Oregon before eventually taking the bus all the way to the outskirts of Beach City and now here I am."

"Jesus," Atari uttered in disbelief. "You're shitting me..."

"I wish I was." Connie said.

"Well, what matters now is that you're here with us," Steven told his closest friend. "Come on. Sit down with us."

The Indian girl did just that and together, they basked in the rays of the afternoon sun and reflected on a better and brighter future to come.


End file.
